


An Archangel on the front porch

by HolaImOla



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Background Ineffable Bureaucracy, Crowley will do anything Azi wants from him tbh, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but i swear there will be story later, fluff is the only thing i'm good at, the whole begining is just fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2020-08-23 19:59:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolaImOla/pseuds/HolaImOla
Summary: It's been months since the Apocalypse That Wasn't and Crowley and Aziraphale's lives have been better than ever- they've finally accepted their own feelings, moved in together and became the married couple they were always meant to be.It  was all perfect.That is, until a bleeding archangel basically fell onto their porch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, it's my first ever work to post here! Good Omens just woke up my old instinct to write fanfiction that my general numbness had killed years ago, so yeah!  
Also, sorry for any mistakes with angel shenanigans, I'm only using whatever I learned in religious education in school and that's dangerously close to zero

Around the half a year mark after the Apoca-yeah-actually-no Aziraphale and Crowley decided to finally move and live together in a small cottage, away from their previous homes and all the city noise. Aziraphale still didn't know who was more surprised by this decision- Crowley or himself. He had to agree that it did feel out of character for him- after all, he was the one that usually needed more time to adjust to change (if it wasn't for the demon, he'd probably stay in his bookshop forever), and yet here he was, not only agreeing to, but also asking Crowley to live in a different place with him.  
And the entire process of switching houses went surprisingly smooth, too.  
At least, as smooth as it could get for a pair of supernatural beings trying to live as human as possible (and yes, it meant they both tried not to perform any miracles at all). Crowley was a little reluctant about Aziraphale's decision to keep all the books (_"I get that you love hoarding them-" "Do not call it that." "-but do I look like I need a damn- blessed-_ whatever_library at my house?"_) and Aziraphale was not really enthusiatic about the big TV Crowley put in the living room (_"I guess it just isn't friend-shaped." "... It's a TV."_), but they went for a compromise in the end (that is, they both got what they had wanted- Aziraphale just needed to pout a little and Crowley promised bringing home food from a different restaurant every week).  
And sure, the first stages of learning each other's routines and habits in living space were awkward, but, since they've gotten close in the past 6000 years, it didn't take them very long to get used to that.  
For example, Crowley discovered almost immediately that the best thing Aziraphale could do in the kitchen is to just eat whatever he was given; however Aziraphale also noticed that Crowley generally shouldn't touch anything at all in the mornings, so he took it upon himself to learn how to prepare some basic breakfasts.  
As he was doing at the moment, actually.  
Over the past few months he had learned that it'd be a rarity for Crowley to be up before him, since sleeping was the demon's favourite thing in the world (apart from his angel, but he would never say that out loud, of course). Aziraphale didn't mind it at all- at the begining he was a little worried, since Crowley would often be woken up by nightmares in the middle of the night, but it seemed that as the time went by, their nights were getting more peaceful.  
The angel was just finishing making coffee and hot coco when he heard shuffling in the kitchen entrance.  
Crowley was standing there, his eyes, still not fully open, scanning the room sleepily. His hair (he had been growning it out again!) was pointing at all directions, some strands were still sticking to his face. He gave Aziraphale a small glance and sat in his chair, pulling his legs to his chest and laying his chin on top of his knees.  
"Good morning, dear." Aziraphale said cheerfully and places their mugs on the table (_"They're dumb." said Crowley when he saw them for the first time "No, they're not!" argued Aziraphale "They're adorable. Look, yours has horns."_).  
Crowley made a "Hnnng" sound in response, which could mean anything between "I can't believe I'm forced to be awake at this horrible hour" and "I love you so much angel, the light of my life.". Aziraphale like to think it was closer to the latter one, but he could never be too sure.  
"Up early today, huh?" He asked, walking behind the demon and placing both of his hands on Crowley's arms. After his first notices how tense the demon was basically at all times, he picked up a habit of giving him gentle shoulder massages. And just how Crowley's nightmares started to fade away, his shoulders also got more relaxed each week.  
"Soon I won't have to rub your neck anymore." Aziraphale chuckled, moving his hands up to Crowley's hair.  
"Ngk- I'll find something to stress about then, angel." He grinned and looked up into Aziraphale's eyes.  
The angel shook his head. "I'm afraid I won't allow for you to just ruin your progress like that." He quickly kissed Crowley's forehead and moved back to the kitchen. "Care for some breakfast?"  
"Na." Crowley smacked his lips after a pause. "Not in mood today."  
Aziraphale nodded and went on to preparing something for himself.  
Then, suddenly, a beam of blinding white light (and not just any type of light, but the celestial kind) poured through the window and basically drowned the entire room in itself. It made Crowley hiss like an angry cat and hide behind the chair he was previously sitting on. Aziraphale didn't quite have as dramatic of a reaction, at least not on the outside.  
Something uncomfortably stung in his chest; it felt as if somebody took a rope, wrapped it around his heart and then squeezed it with all of their strength.  
He had felt this feeling before.  
This feeling was fear.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Gabriel was falling.  
Not falling _Falling_, obviously. He would never even consider falling from Her grace, not even allow himself to involuntairy slip into that. He was just simply above that. Archangels didn't just Fall- and he proudly called himself one after all. No, this was falling in a much more literal sense.  
Quite as literal as it gets.  
He especially felt it when after the long fall his body unceremoniously plummeted into the ground, knocking the air out of his very physical lungs.  
Everything hurt.  
Whille falling Gabriel struggled to pull out all three pairs of his wings in a hopeless attempt to fly; and now, with each and every one of them hurting terribly, he realized what a mistake it was.  
He slowly opened his eyes.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
After moments of silence that seemed to stretch infinitely, Crowley finally managed to let out a weak "What in heaven was that?"  
Aziraphale looked outside, then chewed on his lip, then looked at Crowley, then gulped.  
"An Archangel." He eventually said after a pause.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for such positive feedback on the first chapter!  
((I'm trying to understand how to format my text to make it more readable sjdjdhd))

Angels had different blood from humans. In most of their forms, at least. Majority of them generally obeyed one rule- the more human they made themselves look, the more human their blood was, too.

Gabriel was in an awkward in-between stage right now.

All three pairs of his wings were out, each of them stuck on his very human back. Small electric shocks that resembled golden sparks kept popping up and disappearing around him, each slightly hurting his skin. The color of his eyes kept changing between intense violet and duller, more brown shade.

His blood was also a mixture between the celestial and natural kind.

From just the visual aspect, color was really the only difference.

Angelic blood was gold. Humans have even spotted it multiple times throughout history- they labeled it as ichor, the blood of gods (ah yes, the ancient Greeks tended to mistake various angels for their gods- they've even dubbed Gabriel as Hermes multiple times, which he thought was ridiculous- he deserved to be Zeus or Apollo in his personal opinion).

It also had quite different properties from human blood. When it was in its' pure gold form, it could heal any creatures made by God from all pain and wounds; it was also quite deadly for those who had rebelled against God's will (read as: demons). Of course, Gabriel's blood wasn't pure gold right now. In fact, it was more red than gold, the holy streaks of angelic blood flowing through the red like diluted paint.

He slowly pulled himself up, hands and legs weaker than he'd admit, and scanned the surroundings carefully. He didn't recognize this place- something told him it was England, but he didn't think he'd visited this specific area before.

One small house hidden behind a luscious garden caught his attention in particular. Well, it wasn't the cottage itself- the archangel couldn't care less about the material buildings humans built for themselves.

No, what made all of his senses gravitate towards the house was the immense amounts of love it was radiating.

And it wasn't just the angelic Love, too. It was way more personal, small, almost human kind of love. The type of love one feels for one specific person, unlike the general adoration angels had for all God's creations.

Gabriel knew only one angel who could express both at the same time (and only one creature who would love this pathetic angel back if demons ever felt love).

"Aziraphale." He breathed, coughing more blood.

~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale was pacing around the kitchen nervously, muttering "Oh lord" over and over again under his breath, and spiraling into more and more anxious, blabbering mess.

"Angel?" Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I-I need to dress up. Immediately." Aziraphale seemed to finally put his thoughts together, although his hands were still shaking. He started heading towards their bedroom.

"Angel." Crowley repeated, more firmly this time.

Aziraphale basically froze in place.

"You're right." He said. "No time for that."

He snapped his fingers and miraculously changed his clothes. It seemed like he also miracled them to be cleaner and less worn off than Crowley remembered; on top of that, his hair was combed into something more presentable than a bed head and it looked as if he put slight make-up around his eyes.

Crowley eyed him head-to-toe.

The vest around his stomach seemed to hang loose, even though just a few days ago Aziraphale complained that it was getting too tight. The demon raised his eyebrows and tried his hardest not to smirk.

"Are you seriously sucking your stomach in right now?" He asked, his eyebrows basically disappearing into his hairline.

"You should at least try to look presentable, too." Aziraphale huffed instead of answering.

Crowley rolled his eyes in response.

"Sorry angel, 'm not gonna do that.'' he stood up and stretched. "I don't really need to get any archangel to like me anymore." After a pause he added "And neither do you."

Aziraphale shook his head.

"You- I- Ah." he sighed. "It's more complicated than that."

They didn't get to argue more after that because they heard a sudden thud on the door. The angel took a deep breath, walked towards it and slowly pulled the knob.

"I- A- Em- Gabriel. Archangel Gabriel." he stammered, his face so pale it could probably blend with Heaven's corridors.

It was the Archangel Gabriel indeed. He somehow managed to pull himself into a standing position, although he leaned most of his weight against the door frame. His suit, face and feathers (why on Earth did he pull his wings out?) were all covered in blood and Aziraphale couldn't tell if it was his own or somebody else's (and he didn't know which one was worse). Gabriel breathed in sharply and narrowed his eyes.

"Aziraphale, I..." he winced. "I need your help."

Crowley, who was on the other side of the corridor laughed out loud.

"That was a good one!" He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye cartoonishly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to see more of my stuff, I'm mostly active on instagram (@/fasbean) and twitter (@/catsreverywhere) <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe this one's longer; I might just have done the same thing the third episode of the show did, which is stopping the story for a nice cute flashback that doesn't bring THAT much to the plot, I couldn't help myself okay

The demon Crowley was (as quietly as he could) arguing with the Principality Aziraphale in their kitchen while the archangel Gabriel was possibly discorporating in their living room.

This day wasn't going great and it wasn't even noon yet.

"We asked all of them to leave us alone for good and yet you're letting Gabriel in?!" Crowley whispered theatrically.

"Was I supposed to just leave him out there to whatever terrible fate would come for him?" Aziraphale whispered back. He put a bandage from their first aid kit in his pocket and filled a glass with water.

"Yes!" Crowley said, louder this time. "That's _exactly_ what you should do. That's exactly what he'd do." His voice and expression softened by the last sentence. Aziraphale knew all of that, of course. Crowley wasn't around even half the times Gabriel treated the angel what he'd consider unfairly.

"Kindness is what should define me as an angel, Crowley." he said quietly, gripping the cup with water in his hand. Then, he got A Thought. A thought that would most definitely make Crowley at least a little more willing to work with him. "Besides, aren't you even a bit curious what happened?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

The demon made a confused noise.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh I don't know, dear." Aziraphale fought not to smirk. "What if we had stirred up some conflicts or wars? What if-" he pretended to gasp. "What if he did some serious sinning? Doesn't that interest you?"

Crowley crossed his arms.

"Fine." He grumbled. "You win."

_'I win, again.'_ Aziraphale thought, but couldn't dare to say out loud.

He walked into the living room, where Gabriel laid sprawled on their couch, his wings bent over the back of it awkwardly. Aziraphale sat next to him gently, trying to take as little space as possible.

The archangel glanced at him angrily, as if anything that had happened to him was Aziraphale's fault alone. Crowley stood behind the sofa; Gabriel didn't even bother to look once in his direction.

"L-look, Gabriel," Aziraphale started, involuntarily nodding his head with every word. "I know how much you despise any material food, b-but I figured you'd need at least a few sips." He handed him the glass carefully.

Gabriel glared at his hand with disgust.

"What _the hell_ is that?" He spat out, his eyes getting more violet as his anger grew.

Maybe Aziraphale was starting to freak out.

Just maybe.

"It's just water! Regular Earth water! I-I decided you'd need it before I'd heal you with Holy Water a-and-" he would start rambling if the archangel didn't cut him off.

"No, I wasn't talking about that, you idiot!" Aziraphale could feel Crowley tensing up, even though he was standing a few feet behind him. "I meant whatever on Earth is _that._" Gabriel pointed at Aziraphale's left hand, his voice soaking with disgust.

Aziraphale glanced down to where Gabriel pointed.

On his ring finger there was, well, a ring.

That in itself wasn't the most shocking thing (call it greed or pride or whatever else, but the angel did enjoy some jewelry). What did stand out was that it was made from dark grey, almost black material and it had two little horns and an arrow-ended tail as a part of its' shape. And the fact that it was made by a demon too, probably (Aziraphale had gotten used to the demonic energy, but he figured out Gabriel obviously wasn't).

Crowley smirked, let out a quiet "heh" and leaned against the back of the sofa. He rested his elbow on top of it, and his face on his left hand, proudly showing his own ring to Gabriel (who now had to acknowledge his presence in the room).

The ring was pale-gold and, just like the Aziraphale's one, had some extra touches to it; only this one had a halo and a small pair of wings on top.

"O-Oh." mumbled Aziraphale, still not looking up from his hand. His cheeks were not bright red (without even a bit of gold).

"'Oh' indeed." Crowley laughed from behind him. "That's his wedding ring, douchebag."

~~~~~~~~~~

** _/few months earlier/_ **

_The TV screen (which Crowley finally managed to get into their living room) was shining bright colors from a scene of some action movie the demon was watching. An empty bottle of wine with two (also empty) glasses was standing on the floor next to the sofa they were sitting on. Crowley was covered under a thick, white blanket while sitting in Aziraphale's lap and cuddling to him as close as he could. Aziraphale was reading a book, but he glanced up from it every now and then._

_It was cold outside. The sun had already set, the wind was howling, and on top of that, it has been raining for the past few days._

_But inside, especially so close to his angel (who was exceptionally warm, and soft, and nice, and _ahh_ Crowley was in love) Crowley couldn't feel any better._

_Suddenly he grabbed the remote, paused the movie, and looked at Aziraphale._

_"Angel."_

_"Yes, dear?" he didn't even look up from his book._

_"We should get married."_

_"We should- wait, what?!" This time he did look up, visibly flustered._

_"Get married." Crowley repeated._

_"Crowley, I'm afraid we don't even know enough people for a regular ceremony, also-" And there he was. Rambling again. _

_Crowley laughed softly and pulled himself up so that their faces were on the same level. _

_"I didn't mean human marriage. Just-" now it was his turn getting flustered. "Between us? Like, our souls? Ya know, right?"_

_Aziraphale did know, obviously, he had to. Angels might not have generally been approving of the idea, since their greatest priority was Love for God, rather than another being, but they were all aware of the concept of the pure connection of two souls (humans have tried replicating it with marriages, some with more luck than others). It was the closest one soul could get to another one, and it was the purest way of seeing another being's feelings._

_Aziraphale chuckled and cupped Crowley's cheek in his hand._

_"I suppose so." He whispered and... didn't say anything else? What was Crowley supposed to make out of that?_

_"Unless it's too fast? Then- Then I'll wait. As long as you need." He mumbled quickly._

_"No, dear." the angel shook his head, still smiling. The lights around them were reflecting in his eyes in the most beautiful way, Crowley could stare at them for hours and- "I think it's finally time for me to go a bit faster, don't you?"_

_When Crowley didn't respond (his mind seemed to only be able to think "_AAAAA_" and nothing else), he added with one eyebrow raised. "Although this does feel a lot like just a drunk decision made more by the wine than you."_

_Crowley still didn't respond, just grinned widely and quickly went to kiss him on the lips._

_He could feel Aziraphale slowly allowing their souls to join and for that brief moment become one. _

_He could feel Aziraphale's love._

_It was so different from his own, which really was just screeching "I LOVE YOU" as loud as he could. No, Aziraphale's feelings were warm and gentle, a bit shy even. There was something so... fuzzy about the way he felt and thought about Crowley._

_Aziraphale let go and pushed the demon gently from himself, taking deep breaths._

_"That was so... overwhelming." He mumbled before he let out a weak laugh. "How do you even function feeling like that?"_

_Crowley shrugged._

_"I manage, somehow. But now," he took Aziraphale's hand in his. "let's do the human part of the marriage."_

_Aziraphale shot him a confused look._

_Crowley knew that they generally lived with a rule of no miracles now, but come on. One tiny demonic miracle wouldn't hurt._

_The angel looked at the dark ring with little horns on it that Crowley pulled out from thin air and put on his finger, then at the demon again._

_"It's to showcase your bastard part." Crowley grinned proudly._

_"Well then," Aziraphale, who also couldn't stop grinning, started. "I guess I have to make something for your nice part." He entwined their fingers, and when Crowley looked at their hands, he could see something gold shining on his ring finger._

_They stayed on the sofa for hours, not really saying or doing much, just being together._

_Crowley ginned as he buried his face in Aziraphale's chest, knowing that no beings, supernatural or not, can get closer to themselves than they just have._

~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel just stared at him with disgust.

"You and the demon... got _married_?" He whispered, visibly disturbed.

Aziraphale was drumming his fingers on the glass while simultaneously gripping a bandage he put in his pocket earlier with the other hand. He finally looked up at the archangel, trying to find some courage under his (quite terrifying) glare and said:

"Yes. Yes we did." _'And it was wonderful.'_ he wanted to add, but decided not to, because he knew very well what Gabriel was thinking and going to say.

"Aziraphale, demons are unable of feeling anything love-like." Exactly that. "Besides, even if they were to be filled with love, I don't think any would actually genuinely care about y-" he didn't get to finish the sentence, because Crowley's hand squeezed his neck and made him gag.

"Insult him once more, I dare you." his voice started to sound more like hissing.

Gabriel glared at him as he tried to loosen his grip, but at this state he was way too weak to actually stand any chance against the demon.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale mumbled. Just this was enough for Crowley to slowly let go of the archangel's neck . The look he gave Aziraphale was something between a sad, guilty dog and a "he-asked-for-this" glare.

Gabriel angrily pulled the cup and bandages from Aziraphale's hand. He whispered a few blessings over the water, before glaring up at both of them.

"I hope our paths won't cross anytime soon, you-" he snapped his mouth shut at the sight of Crowley narrowing his eyes. He sharply breathed in and put the bandage on one of his wounds.

The wound hissed, the same way fire would after having water spilled on it.

Gabriel screamed; the glass fell on the floor and shattered. He frantically put his hand over the scar which had steam coming from it now.

"What the fuck did you put in that?!" He groaned in pain.

"N-nothing, it just was blessed! By you!" Aziraphale stared at him, then glanced up at Crowley, whose mood seemed to shift drastically- he went from mad to surprised, maybe even snarky in minutes. The demon laughed mockingly and leaned next to Gabriel.

"Well," he started. "looks like somebody has more to tell us than we thought."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel: "demons don't feel love"  
Aziraphale: *John Mulaney voice* "that's what I thought you'd say you dumb fucking archangel"
> 
> (Follow me on insta @/fasbean, I actually turned a part from this fanfic into a short comic hehe <3)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (((when you wanna further the plot but write Gabe being a Bully McBad instead)))  
Thank you so much for over 1000 hits wth!!! I'm so shocked with all the positive responses I got aaaaa  
(also I'm referring to Dagon as he/him, since those are his pronouns in the book, and i don't recall the show using any pronouns so yeh)

Hell, per usual, was loud and crowded, and, to put it in the nicest terms, gross.

But, unlike for their rival upstairs, the Apocalypse (or lack thereof) didn't bring too many changes. Yes, it was a mess at the beginning, but it's not like Hell wasn't a mess already. Some (most) demons were angry, but anger was something one would want in a hell spawn- it was one of the deadly sins after all. For Beelzebub the best lack of change was that their authority for the majority remained as it should be- unquestioned.

As they walked through the narrow corridors of Hell, all of the other demons quickly stepped aside, some going as far as crouching by the walls, not even daring to look up.

So yes, Beelzebub's life stayed the same. Well, apart from the fact that every now and then they'd be reminded that there was a demon living on the surface of Earth, who was immune to holy water. And then for the rest of the day they'd just be annoyed, thinking only "HOW?!".

"Lord Beelzebub!" they were immediately kicked out of their thoughts by Dagon running towards them. Beelzebub raised their eyebrows questioningly.

Dagon lowered himself so his mouth was next to Beelzebub's ear and quietly started whispering.

Beelzebub's eyes widened. They tried to fight the sly smirk that appeared on their face.

"Are you sure it's him?" they asked when Dagon moved to stand next to them.

"Absolutely."

"And where exactly is he now?"

"The place is called South Downs, I believe."

"Well then," Beelzebub looked up at the other demon. "I guess I should pay him a friendly visit."

~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale decided that the "no miracles" rule could be broken if there was an _archangel-that-has-maybe-Fallen-what-the-hell_ around. If anything in this current situation could alert any other beings about where something supernatural was going on, it probably already had done that.

Looking at the glass slowly put itself together again, he wished for nothing more than this morning and early afternoon to just be a dream. Suddenly the idea of having a normal, human meal with Crowley sitting at the other side of the table and giving him the most smitten looks in the world seemed like a luxury (a luxury that he should have been able to afford, mind you).

He carefully let the water get back in the cup, trying to keep it as far from Crowley as he could at the same time. After all, no matter what Gabriel (and Heaven, and Hell) thought, they both knew that the demon wasn't impervious to holy water, and that even that small dose could potentially kill him (the very thought of that made the hairs at the back of Aziraphale's neck rise).

Gabriel glanced at the glass (oh yeah, there was a chance that this amount of holy water could now kill him as well, but Aziraphale didn't care about that nearly as much).

"There's a war in Heaven right now." He spoke with dry voice. "Some even call it the second Uprising." His violet eyes glared at Aziraphale, who shivered under the stare. "_'If the Apocalypse was so easy to avert, then why would we even listen to God's word anymore?'_"

Crowley wheezed.

"You said that? No wonder you Fell." he snickered.

"Of course I didn't!" Gabriel shouted, indignant. "I'm above anyone who'd question the Lord's will!" He glared at Aziraphale again, clearly letting him know who he meant by that. "Besides," he scoffed. "I didn't _'Fall'_. This is all a misunderstanding."

"I don't know..." Crowley circled around the couch to stand closer to Aziraphale. "Last time I checked, angels didn't hiss at the sight of holy water."

Gabriel looked almost defeated. Aziraphale could catch a glimpse of doubt before the archangel (ex-archangel?) looked at them again.

"Last time_ I_ checked," he started, every word full of venom. "angels didn't just step into Hellfire comfortably." he smiled triumphantly. "And I can guarantee that if you'd asked anyone to point to the angel who's let himself go more than enough to Fall, their bets would be on the Principality Aziraphale."

Aziraphale felt his heart drop. His mouth went dry.

He wanted to think that Gabriel was just saying that to be mean, but the uncomfortable thought that he had in the back of his head for a while now screamed that the archangel was right. After all, he did like living surrounded by Earthly pleasures and definitely did _not_ like the idea of sacrificing them for God. Honestly, he couldn't even pinpoint a reason for why he hadn't Fallen yet, especially not around Gabriel (who in every way of his mere existence was superior to him, and yet here he was).

"I-it's not- I'm not-"

"Besides," Gabriel didn't even let him finish the sentence. "doesn't the Fall hurt? Aren't I right, Crowley?"

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, hoping for some sarcastic response, but Crowley stared intensely at the floor.

The demon always avoided telling about his Fall, or anything that had happened before it. Aziraphale understood it must have been a traumatic experience, and never pushed him to share the details (or anything about it, really). He figured that Crowley would tell him once he decided he was ready, and if there was anything the angel was good at, it was giving him time. And if he decided to never tell him anything about it, then it would be fine with Aziraphale too. He just wanted Crowley to be happy and comfortable with him, whether it meant sharing how terrible the Fall was or not.

"'Cause I heard it's quite horrible." Gabriel went on with a condescending tone. "I heard that it makes you tear your skin off. That it burns your bones, blinds you with pain. And that all of that it's just the beginning to what it feels to have Her grace leave you, all alone, miserable, down there with not even a single soul to trust-"

"Enough!" Crowley hissed, trying to hide how his voice trembled.

Gabriel laughed.

"And I definitely am not experiencing that." he said. "In fact, I'm in perfect health right now."

Both Aziraphale and Crowley looked at his still terribly wounded body; his scars didn't seem to stop bleeding, only now some of them started hissing.

Gabriel glanced down at his covered in blood suit.

"Almost perfect." he mumbled. "Miracle me some spare clothing, won't you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ladies, get u a man who'll love you as much as gabe loves himself 
> 
> (as always, I'm @/fasbean on instagram <3)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh welcome to the world of me being in my final year of high school and not being able to write as much *laughs through tears* (don't ever take advanced geography and french kids)

As the sun got lower, Gabriel started experiencing something he had never felt before.

Every time he'd close his eyes, it was as if his eyelids were glued down and fully opening them became harder every time he'd do that. His body felt slower, and his pain, instead of previous constant aching, turned into a dull, numb feeling. He rested his head against the arm rest (his neck seemed to be much harder to control now).

He allowed himself to give in and let his eyes close. It's not like he didn't deserve it after what's happened to him in the past day.

Gabriel was still on the couch in Aziraphale and the demon's living room (he still couldn't wrap his mind around how dared they even own a material house _together_, it was disgusting, violating, horrible). He was wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, since they apparently were more comfortable than a formal wear, both miracled from some nearby store (because _of course_ that degenerate Aziraphale wouldn't willingly give his own material possessions away, _ugh_).

Aziraphale replaced the holy water at the table with regular water, as if anything holy would ever dare to hurt Gabriel again.

Truth be told, Gabriel didn't exactly know what did the demon and Aziraphale do for the majority of the day. After he got all bandaged-up he focused on his own pain too much to care about the pair. After all it's not like he can just care about whatever others are doing all the time; he needed time to heal and think of himself too.

It felt as if the darkness behind his eyelids was swallowing him whole, and he slowly allowed it to do so. All the noises around seemed to be reaching his ears slower, as if he was underwater, and he was surprised upon realizing that he quite enjoyed the feeling.

Gabriel slowly dozed off.

.

.

.

"He fell asleep?"

"It appears like it."

"Doesn't he, like... not sleep? Maybe he died!"

"I doubt he'd just _die_ like that, dear."

"Eh. Well, at least he should be out for some time."

The sounds around him reached Gabriel sooner than any visuals. Only after hearing that short exchange he could start to make out the shapes of two figures peering into the living room.

Gabriel looked around as his surroundings became more and more clear to him. He slowly realized that his point of view was too high for him to still be laying down.

As he glanced down he realized yet another thing- he wasn't in his body anymore, as the body was looking pretty unconscious on the couch. He hasn't discorporated, though- after all, if that happened, he'd be in Heaven now. And although he wished to be back there more than anything, it was pretty obvious that he was just a few feet above the ground right now.

He tried to see if he could _stand up_ (of course, it wasn't exactly standing up, as for that one needed to use their body, and Gabriel obviously wasn't in his at that moment). He found out that he could, sort of, as he saw the world from a higher perspective now. The next step was seeing if he could more around, and the empty living room seemed to be the perfect space to now test this new situation. Gabriel soon discovered that while he could move around, it wasn't anything like walking or flying though- no, this felt like floating (partly because he didn't have any limbs to move around in this form).

Seeing his current situation- being out of his body, invisible, and apparently with no impact on the material world- Gabriel was surprisingly calm. It might have been because of how much he'd been through the previous day, but it was more likely because he could actually see some advantages of this state.

He could, for example, explore the area.

Of course, Gabriel couldn't tell how far could he go before getting too far from his body. Could he even get too far from it? He didn't know.

But he could guess that inside the house he probably wouldn't be going very far.

He left the living room and glanced back at it. It was entirely dark; all the lights were turned off and the sun has already set, but he could make out some basic shapes. Like a couch and two armchairs, all covered in blankets. A modern TV in front of the couch and a fireplace next to it. Walls were covered with shelves full of books, and yet there were even more books scattered around the room.

Gabriel would click his lips in disgust if he could.

The rest of the house seemed to be as dark and quiet. The only thing that broke the tranquil silence were two voices softly whispering from a few walls away from him. If it were any other beings, Gabriel might have felt some guilt for eavesdropping, but knowing who these voices belonged to, he couldn't bring himself to feel any. He started slowly inching towards the source of the quiet sound in the silent house.

The bedroom was the only room with any lights turned on.

It was also a strange clash of two different styles. The large window had heavy curtains covering it, and right next to it there was a small table filled with potted plants, all of different shapes and sizes, with some pots being white and others very dark, almost black. The walls, like the ones in the living room, were covered with bookshelves, only here between the books there were displayed occasional art pieces and photos. Even the closet, which's door was opened, had a mismatched mix of light and dark clothing inside.

And then, by one wall, there was a bed. Crowley and Aziraphale were sitting on it together (ugh, _obviously_), the demon grooming Aziraphale's wings (what?!), and Aziraphale eating some pastries straight out of the box (disgusting). He was humming quietly with his eyes closed.

"You're lucky I love you so much, angel." Crowley murmured.

Aziraphale chuckled and glanced at him slowly.

"Do you mean this current situation or in general?" he asked, smiling.

The demon looked at him in a _take-a-wild-guess_ way.

Ah. So they were talking Gabriel. Of course.

"Look, dear, you know I'm forever grateful-" Aziraphale leaned against him. "I'm sure it'll all be over in a few days." He smiled again.

Crowley smiled back, mumbled something in the likes of "Sure it will" and made an expression Gabriel had never seen on his face before. The way his eyebrows furrowed, the traces of a smile still showed around his eyes and lips, he looked... honest. Vulnerable.

Gabriel felt as if he'd feel an uncomfortable sting in his chest if he was in a material form right now, luckily he was not. He might even have considered calling it guilt- except, obviously, he had _no_ reason to be guilty. Not right now, not ever. _They _should be thankful for helping _him_.

But even later, as he laid on the couch after returning to his body, he couldn't shake that uncomfortable feeling off.

That and also what Crowley had said to him the previous day. The thing about Falling.

Gabriel glanced at the glass of water on the table. He took it in his hands and stared at it, thinking about whatever happened to him with the previous one.

"_Just trying to bless it shouldn't hurt_." he thought as he raised his free hand above the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say that as much as I absolutely DESPISE Gabe writing from his pov is fun  
(y'all know that cliché when a character says something is gonna be over in a few days and then like it means it won't?? ye heh heh heh)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is a bitch so yeah,,,, not a lot of writing time bois!!! I try tho!!!

Crowley sneaked past the living room carefully, shooting a quick glance at the couch.

Gabriel was sprawled on it, dead asleep, as he tended to be in the past few days. The archangel seemed to have only two ways of functioning- he either made Crowley and Aziraphale's lives miserable or slept for hours. It looked like he was sleeping more than even Crowley would (well, apart from that one time he slept for a century. But that was after Aziraphale and his first ever real fight. He had a reason.).

He entered the kitchen carefully. Aziraphale was facing the other direction, eating breakfast while he stood by the counter, instead of sitting down at the table like a normal person in their home would do (because _of course_ how dared he eat in a place where Gabriel would see him, since apparently Gabriel was more important than Aziraphale's wellbeing now that he was around).

He hugged Aziraphale from behind, making the angel jump.

"Crowley!" He mumbled angrily with his mouth still full. "You startled me!"

Crowley nuzzled his face into Aziraphale's soft shoulder. " 'S good to see you too."

Aziraphale loosened up again and Crowley used that to quickly lift him up and put him on the counter. He leaned his chin against Aziraphale's chest and stared at him, his vertical pupils widened.

Aziraphale sighed and placed his hand on Crowley's cheek.

"What's gotten into you, dear?" He asked softly, rising his eyebrows.

"Missed you." Crowley shrugged.

"I never went away."

"Yeah, I know, but..." he pulled Aziraphale closer. "You know. All of _that_." he rolled his eyes.

Aziraphale did know, of course. It's been a few days already (was it a week? he lost the track), and Gabriel showed no signs of trying to leave, which made Crowley even more nervous and snappy than he usually was. It wasn't like Aziraphale didn't want Gabriel to leave, too- he wished for a normal, usual breakfast (with no annoyed remarks about food or his figure) more than anything now.

Ah, Aziraphale had been spoiled with Crowley just loving and accepting him for who he was.

"I know, I know..." he mumbled, resting his forehead against Crowley's, their lips almost touching. "We just have to work through this."

Crowley took advantage of their current closeness and kissed him gently, biting his bottom lip. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon and pulled him even closer, slowly opening his mouth. Crowley moved his lips down to Aziraphale's chin, to his jawline, and then finally to his neck, pleased when he heard the softest gasp escaping the angel's mouth. He sneaked his hand under Aziraphale's shirt and squeezed the bottom of his belly lovingly.

Aziraphale froze.

"Crowley." He mumbled, nudging his arm.

"Hngh." Crowley's face was still buried between Aziraphale's neck and shoulder. "I thought we got past that whole _I'm ashamed of my fat rolls_ thing."

"That's not what I-" he stopped abruptly, because he could swear he heard some ruffling from the living room. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" Crowley finally pulled himself up; his hair was messy, his cheeks pink, and both his eyes and lips were more glossy than they were a few moments earlier.

It really didn't help that he looked at good as he did right now.

"From the-" he smacked Crowley's hand when the demon tried to move it further up his stomach. "From the living room." He whispered.

Crowley glanced in the direction, then looked back at Aziraphale, rolling his eyes.

"Sso?" he raised his eyebrows.

"_So_?! He's going to see us!" Aziraphale finally managed to pull Crowley's out from under his shirt.

"_Oooh noo, he's gonna see us_!" Crowley said mockingly (Aziraphale hated when he did that mocking voice of his, and Crowley knew that).

They heard some more ruffling from what Aziraphale correctly assumed was the living room, and moments later they could see the (ex?)Archangel Gabriel standing in the kitchen entrance.

He looked... bad these days.

His eyes looked as if they had disappeared deeper into his face, and the violet of his eyes was more red than anything. He was pale, almost white, and the tips of his fingers were black, as if they were burned. His frame was thinner; it was especially visible around his arms, as he held a glass of water in his shaking hand.

He glanced at them in disgust, but quickly shook it off, as he violently placed the glass on the counter, spilling some of the water.

"I think it finally worked!" he exclaimed happily (almost maniacally even).

Every day he had tried to change the water into the holy version of it, with... different results. Sometimes nothing happened, sometimes the cup would explode or start burning, usually it was something between the latter two.

Crowley carefully inched away from the spilled water. It was hardly believable that Gabriel was still actually possessing any power to actually bless anything, but if he actually did, then the demon definitely didn't want to be anywhere around it.

As far as Gabriel was concerned, Crowley could take a bath in holy water and be more than fine, but both Crowley and Aziraphale knew that he wasn't actually impervious to it. They for sure didn't want to know what would happen if Heaven and Hell found out.

"It's just sad that I can't find out if it actually did. Since it has no effect on both of you." Gabriel sighed as he glanced up at Aziraphale. "Yet."

The angel shuddered.

"Alright, alright, enough." Crowley mumbled, waving his hand at Gabriel. "You did your daily fuck-up, now _shooo_ back to sleep."

He didn't notice how while turning around to face Gabriel, he moved a bit too close to the spilled water.

"Oh yeah?" Gabriel started, his glowing eyes contrasted with the dark circles around them. "What, are you afraid of your hellfire-resistant angel knowing the truth-" he was cut off by Crowley's sudden hiss. The demon's hand got too close to the cup; he quickly put it up, as if he touched a hot stove, and his skin immediately turned red from an obvious burn. It might not have been the strongest holy water, but it definitely had something saint in itself.

Aziraphale looked terrified at Crowley. Crowley looked at him in the same panicked way. His inner monologue was just every swear word from every language in the world.

Gabriel blinked.

"What-" he started, confused.

Crowley had to think of something, fast.

"M-man, I don't know what the he- _something-_ you created, but it is deadly." He muttered quickly, but he knew Gabriel would look through this lie.

____________________

None of them felt the strong hellish presence entering the Earth. Possibly because it was way further than it was supposed to be.

The prince of Hell looked around their surroundings, only to notice that they most likely weren't in the right spot.

Hell was never good with coordinates.

They sighed and started walking, hoping the place with the _not-so-much-an-angel-anymore_ wasn't too far.

_The South <strike>Downs </strike>Pole, Earth_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all might think that it's just Aziraphale and Crowley who are dumb but the truth is that there isn't a single smart angel or demon out there  
ALSO I'm going to participate in the Ineffable Inktober and probably post an ink drawing every day of october on my instagram (@/fasbean) so yea!!


	7. Chapter 7

Gabriel was in their house for almost two weeks now, Aziraphale noticed. And no, it didn't look like he was going to leave anytime soon.

Quite the contrary- he seemed to have acclimated to their lifestyle (which, honestly, Aziraphale wasn't sure if it was a good thing..?). For example, he was making less remarks about the very existence of food in the house. He hadn't stopped completely, of course, but around the day ten mark he was quiet about it enough that Aziraphale could peacefully eat by the table. At the day fourteen he even joined them by the table.

Aziraphale could feel Gabriel's stare as it shifted between him and Crowley, but decided to ignore it and focus on the book and food in front of himself. It was Crowley who finally snapped.

"What?!" he hissed at the archangel.

Aziraphale glanced up at them, already trying to think of ways to calm the demon down.

"Can't I just think in silence?" Gabriel glared back at Crowley.

He was basically drowning in his chair. Aziraphale didn't agree for him to bring his favourite cup of water (after all, he really didn't want an explosion of anything between Holy Water and Hellfire on the kitchen table), so now he was just tapping his pale fingers nervously on the table.

"Oh yes, _thinking_. I can literally feel your stare piercing though me." Crowley said as Gabriel rolled his eyes in response.

To their surprise, Gabriel just sighed, laid his arms on the table, and hid his face in them.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley after a moment of silence. "Well, that went smoother than I'd have predicted."

Crowley grinned.

"Maybe he's changing. Developing an actual personality and shit." he smirked.

~~~~~~~~~~

And it seemed like he was right, actually. At least sometimes.

It was yet another instance when Aziraphale peered into the living room and caught the archangel scanning the titles of his books curiously. He seemed to have stopped at one of them and he stared at it, intensely focused.

"You do realize you can read it, as long as you're here, if you'd like to, don't you?" Aziraphale offered, leaning against the door frame. "Just keep your... Holy Water away from it."

Gabriel jumped, as if he just touched a hot stove (Aziraphale wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even Crowley, but he did like the feeling of being the one who scares Gabriel- and not the usual, other way around). He scoffed and straightened up.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He muttered, eyeing the shelf in disgust. "I would never- I could never bring myself to read such lowly works of mortal writers. Especially not these." he nodded towards the book he had been analyzing moments ago. "Taken from a dead man's hand by your demon partner."

Aziraphale blinked; his courage and confidence went away as quickly as they had appeared.

"How did you know?" He only managed to mumble, his voice small.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"We went through _all_ of your papers, remember? Found out every not-so-good deed of yours. Valuing your material possessions over lives of people included. Now go, shoosh." he waved his hand.

To his own surprise, Aziraphale did _shoosh_, probably because of being caught off-guard by a sudden realization.

Heaven had seen it all.

Of course, he had been, _sort of_, aware of that before- but only now had he realized how much they actually knew. It really made him wonder how on Earth was he still considered an angel- even if a degenerate one.

He told himself to not check on Gabriel any more that day, but he couldn't help but peer inside the living room before heading to bed.

The archangel was curled on the couch, deep into the lecture, not tearing his eyes away from the book in his hands for even a second. Aziraphale smiled to himself gently. Maybe Gabriel was indeed, slowly but surely, changing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel, of course, would never think such thing of himself. He didn't need to change, he never had to. God made him a perfect creature and he indented it to stay that way. But every now and then he felt those flashes of... guilt? It was weird- why would he ever feel guilty about how he's treating the pair who's housing him?- and yet he just couldn't shake the uncomfortable realization off.

The realization was that, whatever their deal was, Aziraphale and Crowley weren't those evil figures Heaven (including Gabriel himself) has painted them as.

Sometimes that feeling had caused him to not move around the house at night in his non-material form.

Not today, though.

He sat in front of their bedroom, and he couldn't help but eavesdrop. Curiosity might have been the first step to sin, but in moderation it should be fine. Especially if it was about the... well, the enemy.

"W-what if I do, Fall, though?" he could hear Aziraphale whisper with a trembling voice. It was followed by a moment of silence

"I'll still stick with you, if that's what you're wondering." Answered Crowley. "I kinda signed up for that." he added. Another moment of silence, this time it seemed to stretch longer than the previous one. Gabriel was even considering going back to his body for the rest of the night, when Aziraphale spoke again.

"And what if... What if he finds out?"

"What if he finds out what?" Crowley voiced the exact same thought that appeared in Gabriel's head.

"The arrangement."

"What? You said the whole Heaven knows."

"Not that. The... Oh, you know." Aziraphale's voice was quieter with every word. "The body swap thing."

The body swap?

Crowley clicked his tongue. "Then... We'll be _really _fucked." he laughed. "But he won't. No-one will." His voice became muffled, like he hid his face in something. "I mean, from what I've heard, you gave a great _very- evil-demon _performance."

Aziraphale chuckled and answered something, but Gabriel didn't hear it.

_The body swap thing._

_You gave a great demon performance._

The way how Crowley jumped away from that one time Gabriel managed to turn the water holy; and how Aziraphale was so resistant about how he was impervious to Hellfire. It all made sense now.

Crowley, no matter how many good things he would have done, was still a demon. Aziraphale, somehow, still tightly gripped his position of an angel. Neither of them became anything more than that.

They both lied to Heaven and Hell.

And Heaven and Hell ate it all up.

Gabriel told himself that he wouldn't sleep that night. And that in the morning he'd confront both of them. And then he'll walk back to Heaven (somehow) and finally get rid of them, and gain all of his well-deserved respect back.

But, as the sky got grey, his damn eyelids became heavier and heavier, and Gabriel dozed off into a dreamless slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley sat across Aziraphale by the table, giving him the most tired look he probably ever had to offer.

"You can really, go back to sleep, dear." Aziraphale said softly. "I know how much you hate the early mornings."

The demon shook his head in response. "Don't want you to have a one on one encounter with the Supreme Jerk." he mumbled.

Aziraphale chuckled, but wanted to protest- that Gabriel seemed to be deeper in his sleep than usual, and that he really seemed more tolerable those days, and that Aziraphale started tuning the endless nagging about his eating habits anyways, but he was cut off by loud banging on their front door.

"Who could it be, at such early hour?" he muttered. At the same time Crowley stood up.

"I'll go check, an' scare them off or something." He said, and before Aziraphale could argue, left the kitchen.

As he struggled with the key he thought of ways he could scare the kid who thought banging at people's door at six in the morning was such a great idea (of course, he wouldn't scare them too much- a kid being a nuisance was still a kid). He finally managed to swing the door open, and, well-

He did not expect to see that.

"Being reckless and prideful has finally gotten to you, Archangel Gabriel." Beelzebub, yes the _Beelzebub_, read from a paper that was both dripping with water and burned at the edges. "It's been a while since we saw an Archangel down there, but I'm sure you'll make for a great minion of Hell. Or we can always just have a physical fight. I traveled way too far to get here, and I wouldn't mind punching your face."

Only now Crowley noticed how bad they actually looked. Their hair was messy, and their clothes were all disheveled and torn; it looked like they didn't lie about the travelling way too far part.

Beelzebub looked up and their eyes widened as they realized that they weren't in fact standing in front of an angel.

"Crowley?" they asked, confused.

Crowley opened his mouth, as if to say something, and closed it after a moment. The cogs in his head were turning even slower than usual.

"Nope." He said and shut the door in front of the very prince of Hell's eyes.

"Who was that?" Aziraphale asked when he came back to the kitchen.

"Nobody. Just... em... Mormons."

"Mormons?" the angel asked, raising his eyebrows. "Here?"

"Yep!" Crowley exclaimed. Seconds later their front door was thrown to the other end of the house by an explosion outside. "Or... Maybe not..?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ the chapters in this fic- hey are you a disney film from the 90s? cause you've got tonal problems lmaooo  
((Since my uploading here is now less consistent (thanks, school), if you want to see more of my stuff, I'd suggest checking my other fanfic titled "The Runespoor" or my instagram @/fasbean !!))


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update again wahoo!! I only managed to write this because after my semi-finals i completely lost my voice and got a note from my doctor to not leave my house for the next week :"D so that's a lesson to not overwork yourselves!!!!

Something exploded. And, with a loud thump, hit the wall next to where Gabriel had been sleeping.

How dare.

He opened his eyes, ready to scream at the degenerate and his demon, when he noticed what was it that actually hit the wall. It was a door. The front door of the house, to be precise.

"What the-" he mumbled, but the voice died down in his throat, as he noticed what could have caused the door to fly through the whole house.

It probably wasn't Crowley and Aziraphale screaming at each other in the hallway; no, it was more likely the small, fragile figure, standing close behind them. Their voice sounded like a swarm of flied buzzing between one another (which probably signaled distress, but how was Gabriel the one to tell). They clearly tried to seem serious and threatening, but the bickering couple was too occupied with each other.

"Hey- I am the- Shut up!- Prince of Hell!" they shouted through the pair's screaming.

Gabriel stared at them. Then at the door. Then at (clearly distressed) Aziraphale and Crowley.

Ooooh.

He got what was going on.

The archangel couldn't help the smirk appearing on his lips, as he barely stopped himself from actually laughing out loud. He had seen angels Fall before, but, well, for most cases it was in the middle of a heated battle. Seeing an angel Fall just by themselves, in no actual war, would be quite a curiosity, he figured. And, if he was being honest, it was Aziraphale's high time. Gabriel slowly propped himself up on his elbow and watched the scene unfold in front of him, while also trying to conceive some sort of plan.

Aziraphale was now finally going to be punished. Turned into a demon. But that not only left the one who's been a demon for ages without punishment, it also left Gabriel in his miserable state.

However.

Gabriel could intervene. He could share some important, freshly learned factors with Beelzebub themselves. Ah, he already imagined the face that the very Prince of Hell would have after learning the ways Crowley had fooled them.

Then they would move on to punishing the demon (Gabriel didn't care how the punishment would go really, he just wanted them to get rid of him). And _then_, they'd thank Gabriel (or whatever was the demon equivalent of thanking), and Gabriel would have done a very good thing for the betterment of all _and_ he would be healed and sent back upstairs by God Herself.

It surprised him sometimes how smart he could be.

He carefully stood up and walked to the trio, trying to lean by the large flowerpot as casually as possible. Beelzebub immediately noticed him, glancing at him from behind the pair, their expression blank. They somehow looked even worse than usual (which was quite an achievement)- their hair wet and edges of their clothes burned slightly. They also looked much paler than they normally would (again, a rarity), with dark bags formed under their eyes. Even the fly on top of their head looked sad.

"Hey Beelz." he started. This finally quieted down Aziraphale and Crowley as their both were looking at him now too.

"Do not refer to me like that, Archangel Gabriel." Beelzebub _tsk_'ed. "I'm here for zzeriouzz buzzinezzzz, and you seem to know that."

Gabriel nodded.

"Of course I do. You're here for the Angel-to-Fall. So, c'mon." he waved at Aziraphale. "Shoosh."

"What?" Aziraphale asked, blinking in confusion.

"What, _what_? Go, fulfill your fate." Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

"But, Gabriel, I-"

"Aah, still having delusions? I mean, it was something you could- and should- have predicted-"

"It's not-"

"You know, with all of your sinful ways of living, I mean honestly-"

"I'm not here for him, dumbass." Beelzebub interfered.

It was Gabriel's turn getting confused. "But..." he pointed at Aziraphale. "If you're not here for him..." he moved himself so that he was pointing at Crowley now; he then looked questioningly at Beelzebub who shook their head.

Realizing that he was the only person left, Gabriel exhaled loudly.

"Well, then the upstairs must have fucked something up big time. No offence, but how can a _demon_ bring me back to Heaven?" he giggled and shrugged. "Impossible."

Beelzebub stared at him with one eyebrow raised; their lips were slightly opened.

"You're not going back to Heaven." They moved their hand across their face.

"Well, I'm definitely not staying here. Look what Earth has done to me!" he extended his arms to show how his silhouette has changed over the past couple of weeks.

He was so weak now; he was way thinner than ever before, with a lot of his bones showing. His skin became so pale, it was basically see-through. His hair turned much darker, basically black, and was definitely messier than ever, some of the strands covering his eyes.

And oh lord, his eyes.

The bags around them were so dark now, he could hardly see his actual eyes in the mirror. The very color of his eyes had changed, too- it wasn't violet anymore, much more of a dull grey.

He stood with his arms still stretched out, and Beelzebub eyes him heads to toe before nodding.

"Yeah, that's not the Earth's effects Gabriel, you're kinda, definitely, Falling."

What. What the fuck.

A shiver went down his spine as he shook his head. "No," he started inching away from them "no, no, no, no. It's a mistake-"

Beelzebub pulled out an envelope from their coat. "It's not. We've got all your sins written down."

Gabriel's eyes widened as he stared at the paper in their hands. "Why the _fuck_ are you keeping a file on me?!"

"It's from Heaven-"

"Ha!" the archangel clapped his hands, grinning like a maniac. "Heaven's a mess now! Everyone's fighting. It's a scheme! And it's all _their_ fault!" he pointed at Aziraphale and Crowley.

Beelzebub didn't seem to take in any of his arguments. They skipped through the papers, which magically multiplied after opening the file. Gabriel did not like how many of them appeared- it had to be faked somehow.

"Most of these are pride, unsurprisingly." they said. "A similar record to Lucifer's, except, of course, this one's way longer."

Gabriel felt as if someone dumped a bucket of ice on his head.

"That's enough!" he exclaimed and turned around. "I will not listen to any more lies from the mouth of a de- AH!" Beelzebub had grabbed his collar from behind and pulled him to match their eye level.

"I've had a very long, horrible few weekzz." they whispered, their eyes changing from human and grey to the reticulated eyes of a fly. "And I don't give a shit about any of your excuzzezz. You're going down, with me, whether you want it or not." the room looked like it was getting darker and the air around them seemed to get colder. Beelzebub's grip on his clothes only tightened.

Gabriel, for the first time in a while, felt actually scared (and he didn't enjoy it at all, thank you very much).

Beelzebub stomped their foot on the ground once and looked down. Nothing happened.

"What the-" they mumbled and stomped a few more times, still to no result (apart from maybe making Gabriel a little less scared).

They looked up, their eyes meeting with Aziraphale's. They growled "Bless it. Of course I was sent to get someone down from an angel's ground.

Only now Gabriel realized what the stomping was all about- Beelzebub tried to open a portal to Hell, which got stopped by the fact that an angel lived around.

He smirked.

"All odds are against you, Beelze-" Beelzebub snapped their fingers, and Gabriel didn't even manage to finish the sentence- they both got teleported a few meters outside the house.

Aziraphale looked at their silhouettes through the hole the front door left, then at Crowley.

"What do you think they're going to do now? Fight?"

Crowley shrugged.

"'S not my problem." he glanced at the door, still laying in the living room. "You think a small miracle could pass to fix that thing?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof if u like this fic, you might consider other stuff i posted here?? all of my writing is good omens, and one of the fics is also multi-chaptered! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. I know I haven't been around for a while, and while I tried to stay optimistic, so I just wanna let you know that while I do try, my life is kinda shitty right now. There have been some deaths in my family by the end of 2019 that I still haven't stopped grieving over, and it doesn't help that my very final high school exam is in less than two months (assuming they won't be moved since there's a global pandemic I mean seriously what the fuck). I don't know how active I'll be until about the end of May, so again, I can't promise anything.  
This chapter is a bit shorter than my usual stuff, because I had some plans for later chapters and I needed something to bridge between them :) Also even though I don't leave my house right now, I have so much homework and online classes that I barely have any time for writing at all.

Aziraphale tried his hardest to not care about the fact that two powerful entities were fighting outside his house. He really did.

But it seemed that everything around him was just a reminder of said fight. He mended the broken door and closed it tightly, he went to the kitchen, poured water into the kettle and boiled it, and yet none of those helped. All of his surroundings were affected by whatever went down between Gabriel and Beelzebub.

First of all, and most importantly, the weather has changed. The sky above them turned into some eerie, dark grey colour, a strong wind started blowing in all directions, and loud thunders were echoing through the air, getting louder with every one of them.

He tried to not think of it, but the thought did not let itself to be pushed out of his mind.

_It's like the Apocalypse all over again._

He glanced outside the window, staring at the leaves being torn from their branches by the wind. The memories slipped into his mind- the last few days of Earth, his fight with Crowley, his, well_, death_, the decision to stand against the Heaven like there was no tomorrow (for the record, when he'd done it, it really looked like there wasn't any), actual Satan coming to the Earth-

"Angel?"

He jumped at the feeling of Crowley's hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" The demon asked, his eyes scanning him up and down with worry.

"Um," he glanced from him to the window, and then at him again. "I think we should do something."

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "I have a strange feeling that _something_ doesn't mean _let's-pack-our-bags-and-go-on-a-trip-to-the-south_."

Aziraphale, probably the most eloquent person he actually knew, was at a complete loss of words for a good few seconds, before he spoke again.

"I think... I think we should help them."

"You _what_?!"

Aziraphale finally brought himself to look up into Crowley's eyes, which now were much wider than normally. He tried to make what he was about to say sound the most compromising, but he _knew_ Crowley did not want to compromise in any way. Not with that.

"I just," he caught himself glancing around nervously again." I don't think I did the right thing. Again."

Crowley rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Except you definitely did. I mean," he gestured vaguely in the window's direction. "He was already kept safe for way too long here."

Aziraphale nervously tried to shift his position to a more comfortable one, only to find himself not being comfortable anyway. The worst thing about this whole situation was that Crowley was right- because yes, he did help Gabriel even though he didn't need to (or want to, really), and he had kept him as safe at their place as he possibly could. And yet still- the thought of Gabriel and Beelzebub violently trying to destroy the other one didn't help with that at all.

Crowley seemed to have noticed this, as he put his hands on the angel's shoulder before speaking again, this time in a much softer, gentler voice.

"I don't like the idea of these two fighting just outside our house either, angel," he said. "And despite my remarkable style and edge, I don't actually want to see a Gabriel-puree at our doorstep." He shuddered with disgust.

The faint smile and chuckle that Aziraphale let out turned out to be much less forced than he'd expected.

The reaction seemed to satisfy the demon. He gently pat his shoulder. "We just gotta wait it out, eh? And once we do..." he thought for a second. "I'll take you to the best crepe place in the world, Paris or wherever else. Alright?"

"Alright." Aziraphale replied after a moment, not fully convinced on the waiting without a plan yet (although, to be fair, the best crepe place in the world did sound promising to him).

~~~~~~~~~~~

The world, and all the different planes of it, was busy. Constantly.

One would think that I'd catch a break sometimes, right? Just for a short moment, every now and again?

In Adam Young's opinion, it would be great if the world decided to give him a break, just once in a while. Of course, the world was too big and too busy to care what an ex-Antichrist might want from it.

So when it decided to his the boy with a sudden, strong wave of whatever-could-it-be-made-out-of energy that almost made him fall from his treehouse, he knew he had to do something about it.

Maybe teach the world a lesson to not hit him with random bursts of energy with no warning. Or something in these lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, check my other projects posted here and make sure you stay safe!! <3


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